In the closet
by The Forgotten Nobody
Summary: Sherlock and John are in the closet. They really want to get out.


**Just a small one shot that came to me from a sentence that randomly popped into my head. Not meant to be too serious, just a little bit of fun. **

**In the closet**

Admittedly, it was a bit strange to get a call from Lestrade informing them of a new case when they had just finished one that same morning. The thrill of another exciting case so soon clouded Sherlock's judgement however and John soon found himself back at the station standing next to an impatient consulting detective. It didn't take long at all for the unprepared duo to be suddenly shoved inside the nearest room possible with a lock click behind them.

"And you're not coming out until you've resolved all of that damn sexual tension!" John had never hated Lestrade so much, and considering the look on Sherlock's face, neither had he.

The room itself was fairly small, just a bit larger than a cleaning cupboard and the only thing in it was a low shelf full of files. Almost like a closet. Sherlock wasted no time before falling gracefully to the ground and sitting with his legs crossed. John soon followed; he was still a bit of a daze from being thrown in the room.

They sat in silence for a while, neither wanting to comment on Lestrade's mention of sexual tension. Both of them had felt it for a while themselves but rather than say anything they, in true male fashion (or Sherlock just being Sherlock) they refused to acknowledge it as both believed it would only complicate things. Especially as neither of them knew what the other would think about them if they broached the subject. It was better to just stay quiet in their opinions.

"What do you think the chances of me breaking down the door are?" John asked after the silence had become particularly suffocating.

"About 20% if you hit it at the right angle with the most amount of force possible three times. That's if the door has a broken hinge though, which it likely doesn't. Therefore the chances are not even worth saying. We are most likely stuck in here until Lestrade deems us ready to come out" Sherlock said in a monotonous voice as he stared intently at a small crack in the wall.

"Great, just great" John sighed. They fell silent again before John casually asked "Fancy a game of I-spy to pass the time?"

Sherlock groaned with exasperation. "Please tell me it has not escaped your notice that we are in a room where the most we could 'spy' are folders, shelf, wall, floor and ceiling. It would not be a very riveting game"

"Fine then, you come up with something better to do" John huffed as he folded his arms. He desperately hoped Lestrade would just get bored and let them out soon. Sherlock didn't answer him and John suppressed another sigh. Great, so they really were just going to sit in here in silence until Lestrade got tired and let them out or they died from the boredom – Sherlock before John.

"Perhaps we should give Lestrade what he wants" John jumped at the unexpected sound of Sherlock's voice and then turned to him with wide eyes.

"What do you mean?" John pretended his voice did not just crack a squeak at the end of that.

"If we indulge Lestrade then he will let us out. Simple" If it was so simple then why wasn't Sherlock looking at him. Though his voice sounded confident, his slightly, invisible to naked eye shaking, body suggested nervousness and Sherlock never became nervous. He was a master at acting and could easily pass of whatever he assumed Lestrade wanted to hear so why was he nervous? Unless…perhaps he wasn't alone after all in this…

"Bloody hell. You like me. And I mean like in a completely un-platonic way, don't you" John spoke with some amazement.

Sherlock glared at him, feeling more than a bit exposed than normal. "Now what would give you that idea? Obviously I just want to get out of here as much as you and the easiest way to do that would be to appease Lestrade. What would it matter if I did anyway, you're a straight man who has girlfriends who would never have feelings for me. Well fine, if you are so against it we will just sit here and wait!" Sherlock juvenilely harrumphed and averted his gaze to the wall John was opposite from. By doing that he missed the fond, amused look John sent him.

Sherlock continued to stare at the wall until he felt John's presence next to him. He turned to face him and John smiled affectionately at him.

"For having such a brilliant mind, you really can be an idiot sometimes" With that, John closed the gap between them and put his lips on Sherlock's. Before long they were finally releasing all that pent up energy between them. They entwined themselves together, ignoring it when they ended up knocking the files on the floor.

-.*.-

Outside the room, Lestrade cringed as he heard the loud bang then moan coming from the closet. He turned to Mycroft (part of the master-mind behind the scheme) and said "Well at least we know it worked".

Mycroft nodded, hiding the embarrassment he felt at hearing what his little brother was getting up to. "I believe they will be occupied for a while. Care for some coffee?"

After hearing yet another moan and turning bright red, Lestrade quickly nodded. "Love some".

-.*.-

Two hours later the two red faced men were released from the tiny room. John's hair was dishevelled and Sherlock's top had come un-tucked. The person who'd let them out seemed to have got away quickly as they were alone. John took a quick look behind him at the room they'd spent the past few hours in and grinned.

"Hey Sherlock" John chuckled. "We've come out of the closet!"

**Yep, that last sentence is what came into my head and made me giggle for a few good minutes. I think I might be going mad. **


End file.
